Student
by Aerle
Summary: For his birthday, Marco is dragged to a strip club by his brothers. His reservations are forgotten when he lays his eyes on one of the strippers, a young freckled man with raven black hair. However, he soon realises that a stripper has a life outside of work as well... AU. MarcoAce. Set in the same universe as Neighbour.
1. Catching Fire

Story is set in the same universe as _Neighbour_ (ZoSan) (because that's my thing apparently XD)

Thanks MyLadyDay for suggesting the title and giving suggestions ^^

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**Catching Fire**

"When you said we were going to a strip club, I was assuming there would be, you know, women," Thatch said, looking around hesitantly. Everywhere he looked were scantily dressed men walking around and dancing. He quickly draught the remainder of his beer and asked the waiter in the leather thong for another one.

"Will you quit your complaining? We're here for Marco's birthday," Izo snapped, though he was obviously enjoying himself with the stripper in his lap.

"But Marco enjoys boobs as well," Thatch whined, almost wincing when one of the entertainers offered him a lap dance. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He needed his friend to be on his side. "Don't you, Marco? Marco?"

But the blonde man wasn't listening. His eyes were glued to the stripper currently on stage. The muscular man was sliding down the pole upside down like it was nothing, before flipping over and landing gracefully on his feet. He flipped his ebony hair back, revealing a cheerful freckled face. He smiled at the crowd, while he took the pole in one hand and lowering himself sensually. Arching his back he straightened again, his eyes scanning the cheering crowd. His dark eyes landed on Marco, his smile turning into a smirk.

The blond forgot to breath when they made eye contact and the beautiful man on stage hooked his leg around the stripper pole and twirled around it, like this show was just for him. His mouth had gone completely dry, all his reservations about going to a strip club forgotten. The raven haired stripper was perfect. His upper body was trained to resemble like a Greek god and the shorts he was wearing hung low enough to reveal the beginning of the V-shaped muscles.

Izo couldn't suppress a chuckle when he saw his friend gawking at the performer. "I think I already know who you're getting a lap dance from… Happy birthday, Marco."


	2. Meet the Stripper

A bit longer this time ^^ Though I will try to keep all chapters less than 1K, as I want to be able to write them in an hour or so ^^

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**Meet the Stripper**

Marco remembered to blink once the ebony haired stripper had left the stage. He also remembered he wasn't alone and that there were two sets of eyes aimed at him, one no doubt accompanied by a sly smirk. Dreading what he would find, he reluctantly turned his head.

On Izo's face lay a smirk that, would it grow any more, would split his face in two. Thatch had a less clear expression, something between wanting to tease the blonde, but on the other hand he was too uncomfortable with all the scantily dressed handsome men walking around.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that you are enjoying yourself," Izo said to the blonde.

Marco opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again when he realised he couldn't talk his way out of this one. After all, he had practically been drooling when the raven haired stripper was on stage. Quickly he checked his shirt. Yes, _practically_. "Maybe it isn't that bad," he muttered.

Izo hadn't told him where they were going when he and Thatch dragged Marco into the cross dresser's car. Thatch had known, though he had had a different idea than Izo had, apparently. Well, the blonde would have just been equally uncomfortable in a female strip club, but then at least Thatch would have had a good time. Now Izo was the only one. "Shall we go now?" Marco asked, already getting up to leave. The black haired stripper was gone and so was his trance, therefore the only part he had been enjoying.

But Izo would have none of that. "No, no. First you're gonna have some fun. And Thatch isn't nearly drunk enough."

Marco looked at his brown haired friend, who just finished his fifth beer and ordered another. When he looked back, he saw Izo disappear into the crowd. A feeling of dread came over him. The cross dresser wouldn't…?

Of course he would. After a few minutes – which seemed to last forever – the cross dresser came back followed by the dashing freckled stripper. Marco looked around for help, but Thatch had already moved to the bar to keep the beer flowing. Frantically, Marco tried to think of some way – _any _way – to escape. But it was like the stripper pinned him down in his seat as soon as their eyes met. He felt like a deer looking in head lights – though this would be a beautiful way to go.

Izo came to a halt right before his blond friend, as did the erotic dancer. The latter grinned at him. "I heard it's your birthday. So I'm here to make the day extra special."

Marco couldn't do anything but stare up to the beautiful man. Up close he could even see his flawless skin better, his rock hard abs… The blonde's gaze drifted up to the stunning chestnut coloured eyes.

Izo chuckled and said: "Please go easy on him. It's his first time here. We wouldn't want his brain to overheat."

"Don't worry, he's in good hands," the stripper said smirking. He turned to Marco. "Why don't we go somewhere more private?" He reached out his hand.

The blonde started at it dumbfounded, like it was a foreign object.

Izo chuckled again, placing a hand before his mouth. "It seems like it's already too late. My, you have quite an effect on him… Marco, why don't you follow the nice mister?"

His friend's teasing snapped him out of his haze and he glared at the cross dresser. Still, he got up and followed the stripper's perfect swaying hips, ignoring the encouragements shouted after him by Izo.

He followed the exotic dancer to a small room with only a chair in the middle of it. The dark haired man gestured him to take a seat. He obeyed, never taking his eyes of the other man. The stripper was dressed in nothing more than black shorts – leather ones, he saw now he was up close – and boots.

"So," the dancer started, "is there something you would like me to do?"

Marco's brain was still trying to make sense of the situation. He was alone in a room, with a stripper. The most beautiful man he had ever seen. The one person he knew for sure that if he touched them, his brain would melt.

He was so lost in thoughts, he missed what the other man said, almost gawking at him.

The stripper chuckled. "You really are new." He stepped in front of the sitting blonde, between the latter's spread legs. "Why don't I start by giving you a lap dance?"

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Next time, the lapdance :D


	3. Lap Dance

Sorry for the long wait! Here is the promised lap dance ;)

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**Lap Dance**

Marco could only nod at the suggestion. His mouth was dry and his brain wasn't fully functioning right now. The fact that he was alone with the gorgeous stripper who did all those wonderful things to him, didn't really help.

The stripped chuckled again. "You don't have to worry about tipping me either, your friend has already taken care of that. So just sit back and enjoy."

The blonde nodded again.

"Okay, then." Music started to play as if on cue. "Let's see if I can make you talk. Just one rule: no touching."

For the umpteenth time, Marco nodded. He didn't doubt his brain would melt if he touched the stripper anyway.

"Good boy." The dancer walked around him, seductively swaying his hips and stood behind him. Macro could feel the warmth of his hands as they grabbed the back of the chair. He tried to look over his shoulder what the man was doing. The stripper lowered his body, letting his hands slide down on the back. Then he slowly straightened again, rolling his head and upper body.

It was hard to see from the angle Marco was at, but just knowing what the man was doing, sent blood he didn't know he still had in is brain, south.

The music was slow and seductive, and so was the stripper. After he was standing up again, he walked around the chair to the blonde's front, swaying his hips which seemed to be his trademark. He stopped between Marco's legs, causing the blonde to swallow thickly, and turned around. He bent forward, swaying his perfect ass in the blonde's face, before straightening again. The stripper's hands roamed over his own body. Marco licked his lips subconsciously, wondering what those abs would feel like beneath his own hands. The dancer's skin looked so soft… The blonde's fists clenched and unclenched. Not touching was going to be harder than he thought.

The stripper moved again, this time to his side. One of his hands grabbed the back of the chair, while the other was placed on the seat of the chair… between his legs. Marco could just stare at it, trying not to think about how close that hand was to his crotch. Warmth radiating off the exotic dancer's body made him look up again. The stripper rolled his upper body, arching his back and bringing his own groin very close to Marco's face. The blonde hated himself for how much he wanted to press his head closer. But no touching, the stripper had said, and the least punishment would be that the show stopped. Even thinking about that was torture in itself. So he focused on the dancer again.

The ebony haired man had turned again. He placed his feet a little further apart and rolled his head again, his hips swaying along. He repeated the motion, this time pushing his hips a little further back, so that Marco had again a nice view of his behind. The blonde wouldn't mind seeing more of that, but the stripper already moved on. This time his slowly squatted down, letting his hands slide along his upper legs as he did so, and spreading his legs. Then, leisurely, he came back up again, before swaying his hips and going down again.

Marco bit on his lip nervously. Every time he though he couldn't get more turned on, the dancer did a new move. Again, the stripper walked to the back of the chair, moving his hips from left to right and driving the blonde mad as he couldn't see it very well. The dark haired man let go of the chair, but didn't stop dancing there. Marco was starting to wonder how far he could turn his neck before his head would fall off. On the stripper's face lay a bright smile, his eyes closed in bliss. He seemed to be enjoying what he was doing, and he should, because he was fantastic at it.

The dancer came into his view again, rolling his body almost obscenely and touching himself, his hands roaming his body. Marco was chewing his lip, not even realizing he had drawn blood. His eyes were fixed on the black haired man before him.

The stripper flipped his hair back with practiced ease and turned around again, showing off his ass. He was again standing between Marco's legs – which wasn't doing much good for his already questionable sanity – and slid down until he was crouching. His hands left his own body and were placed on Marco's knees. It surprised the blonde he didn't spontaneously combusted into flames. The stripper had said no touching, but apparently that only meant Marco wasn't allowed to touch. His brain effectively stopped thinking when the man on this floor opened up his legs in a suggestive manner.

The hands left his legs and he immediately missed their warmth. Much was made up for, however, when the stripper hopped up, his hands still on the floor and giving Marco again a nice view of his ass. The dark haired man let his hands wander over his legs again, rolling his head and body seductively while he gradually straightened. He repeated the motion, bent forward and rolling his body up. When he was standing up again, he circled the chair again. The blonde felt fingers intertwine with his hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling and had to suppress a whine when the hands left him again. The stripper deemed it time for the grand finale. He forced Marco's legs a little more open and sat down in front of him, his back turned to the blond man. He placed his legs apart, reeling his body, before closing them and repeating the movement. He looked back at Marco, a smirk telling that he knew what was going on inside the blonde's pants on his freckled face, and he got up again.

The moment he turned around, the music stopped playing.


	4. Pole

**Pole**

The music had stopped and the trance was broken. The stripper seemed a little out of breath and went with a hand through his hair. Marco stared up to him, blinking like he just woke up from a dream. And what a wonderful dream it had been.

"I take it you enjoyed the show?" The freckled man grinned at him. "I have to be on stage in a few." He took a step closer, caressing with his hand across the blonde's unshaven chin and leaned in, whispering: "Happy birthday~" With that, he left the small room, leaving Marco feeling a strange mixture of arousal and confusion.

He didn't know how long he sat there, alone, on that chair, without a stripper dancing around him. Finally, his mind had crawled out of the gutter and his body allowed him to get up. After all, his dancer would be performing again…

Outside of the room, Marco cast a glance at the stage – and immediately regretted it. The freckled stripper wasn't on yet. Instead, there was a man, wearing a purple leotard cut out low and fishnet stockings. The combination would not look good on anybody, but the man wearing it had definitely not the posture for it. He was also wearing heavy make-up. In all, the sight made Marco cringe. However, Izo was sitting in the front row, encouraging the stripper when he yelled "Yihaw!" and danced around obscenely.

Shaking his head – and trying to get that mental image from his mind's eye – Marco decided to find Thatch. The poor guy should be pretty drunk right now.

As expected, he found his friend at the bar, emptying his who knew how many shot glass and turned around when the blonde called his name. "Marco! You're back! You brain still intact?" Thatch snickered and hiccupped.

"I'm fine," Marco deadpanned. Without the gorgeous stripper in sight, he could think straight again.

"Oh, that reminds me!" The brown haired man slapped on his leg. "I found you another one you might like." He pulled at an annoyed looking stripper's hand. "See? Nice and sturdy, just how you like it."

Marco eyed the exotic dancer with a sceptic look. Sure, he was good looking, with his muscular upper body and tanned skin. He had a handsome face, a strong jaw and from his left ear hung three earrings. But why the green hair? And when Marco looked down, he saw that the man was only clad in a thong – which wasn't weird per se, they were in strip club after all – but from his side hung three swords. Really, what was up with that?

"Thatch, let go of the nice man," he said in a stern voice.

His friend pouted. "What? Don't you like him?"

Marco exchanged a glace with the stripper, who seemed to be wanting to be anywhere but here, if his scowl was anything to go by. "Sure. But I'm gonna take you home now. You're drunk."

"But I'm just starting to like it here!" Thatch protested, only proving how drunk he really was.

The blonde sighed. "Of course you do. Now, stay here and be a good boy while I get Izo. And no touching strippers!"

The brown haired man pouted a little, but seemed to have forgotten all about it when a new drink as placed in front of him. Shaking his head, Marco headed for the stage where he had last seen Izo. There, he froze.

His freckled stripper had taken the stage again. He was standing behind the stripper pole, looking down, but with a grin on his face. His clothes left even less to the imagination, right now, he was wearing nothing but a thong and boots. When the music started to play, he grabbed the pole with one hand and rolled his hips forward, flipping his hair back. He grabbed the pole with his other hand, kicking one leg into the air as he showed off his flexibility. After that, he grabbed the rod with both hands, lifting himself up and spinning around it. He landed on his feet again, flashing his audience a grin, before turning back to his performance. Rolling his hips again, he pressed his ass backwards, showing off his goods for anyone interested.

Marco stood entranced as the stripped moved his hips from left to right, before encircling his legs around the pole. Using his upper body to make himself spin around it, he let himself slide back on the floor, arching his back as he did so. Holding the pole, he spun around it, using the speed created to fling his legs up. Hanging above the floor, he threw his legs up once more, flipping himself over until he was hanging upside down. He let go of the rod with his hands, leaning backwards. The muscles of his torso were rippling from exertion. Small drops of sweat dripped down and Marco had to resist the urge to climb up on stage to lick the man's abs.

The stripper let himself slide down again, using only his legs, before he gripped the pole again. He placed his hands on the ground and slowly flipped himself over as his legs released the pole. He landed on his knees, grabbing the pole once more and rolling his torso again. Pulling himself to his feet, he again pressed his ass backwards until he had straightened. Then he let himself hang back, holding on to the pole with one hand, his head fallen back as the music slowly faded away. Still panting he flashed another grin and Marco could swear the freckled man looked at him.

"Marco!"

Perfectly manicured fingers snapped in front of his face.

The blonde shook his head, trying to wake himself from the trance he had been in. That stripper really had a bad influence on him. Beside him he heard a chuckle. "My, that private room must look like a bloodbath."

For a moment Marco looked confused at Izo, until he felt something warm drip from his nose. Embarrassed he grabbed the tissue held out to him and pressed it to his face, trying to will Izo's mocking laughter away.


End file.
